Enemies Closer
by LindseyInsomnia
Summary: PostPowerless, Sylar blackmails Elle into working for him.
1. Blackmail

Elle paced the alleyways around Isaac Mendez's studio, getting more frustrated every second. Mohinder told her not to go after Sylar, but she knew her father would be furious if he found out that she got close enough to catch him and didn't. So she kept searching, alley after alley, looking for some sign that he had been there. But it was getting so futile that she was about to go back to the studio to look for clues.

She gave one last annoyed foot stomp and turned to leave, when she found herself face to face with the one person she'd been looking for. She barely had time to gasp in horror before she was slammed telekinetically against the brick wall and held there, watching in terror as her captor sauntered forward, over-confident smile in place. He didn't bear any of the wounds people usually had after she hit them… he was cured.

"Elle Bishop," he greeted, looking her up and down. She tried to catch her breath.

"How--"

"I got to spend a long time on Dr. Suresh's laptop. He seems to be interested in you," he smiled. "The file picture must be fairly old… you grew up."

Elle didn't move… she couldn't, even if she wanted to. She knew every part of her had to be shaking in fear. Sylar seemed to notice this too. He cocked his head to the side.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Elle forced herself to nod. Sylar smiled again and let her down. She fell to her knees, panic having taken the feeling from her legs. Sylar knelt down next to hear and leaned in close to her, whispering.

"You should be. But I'm not going to hurt you right now. You see, I know how easy it would be to kill you and take your ability… right now," he whispered, brushing his lips against her neck as he spoke. "But you may prove to be more valuable to me alive." He pulled away, and looked her sternly in the eyes. "You're going to keep an eye on Dr. Suresh for me, and start feeding me names from his list."

Elle, still shaking, glared back at him defiantly.

"And if I don't?"

Sylar smiled, unthreatened. He leaned into her again, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"Then I'll kill your father, and then I'll kill you too." His evil smile grew wider as she let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp. "Don't tell anyone, I'll know. I'll contact you soon, Elle."

And suddenly she was alone, quivering on the hard ground.


	2. Death Sentence

It was a full three weeks before Sylar contacted Elle again. She had naively hoped that she wasn't going to hear from him again; she had no experience in being secretive, and she was terrified of messing up and getting her father killed. But sure enough, he called her on her Company cell phone, 3 weeks, almost to the hour, after he first threatened her.

She didn't recognize the number, so she answered as usual.

"Elle Bishop."

"Elle."

She froze and her eyes darted around her small office, as if she might find someone to help her, or perhaps she thought he was in the room with her.

"Who is this?" she asked shakily, despite the instant recognition.

"You know who this is," he mocked.

"What do you want, Sylar?" she demanded, trying to sound intimidating, but sounding more like a child feigning authority over her parents than anything.

"To give you your first assignment, of course." She looked purely terrified by the prospect. "Meet me on the roof of the Deveaux building in an hour. Don't try anything, I'll know."

Somehow, Elle didn't doubt that.

So an hour later, she was at the specified location, shifting nervously from side to side. That stupid sling was off, finally, but her arm was still bandaged, a fact she'd hidden by wearing a black jacket over her striped top. She didn't want to look any weaker than she was.

She stepped closer to the ledge, peering out over the city. Heights weren't her favorite, but it was so pretty up there. She sighed and looked at her watch for the fourth time, starting to wonder if Sylar was coming, but as she turned to face the door again he was suddenly inches from her face.

Elle gasped in surprise, too stunned by his proximity to be afraid yet. Gone was the desperate criminal look of the alleyway, replaced by carefully styled hair and clean-cut clothes. Not only was she shocked by his sudden presence, but his appearance surprised her as well for a reason she couldn't quite place. His facial expression was somehow menacing, business-like, and pleasant at the same time.

"Elle," he greeted, his voice as cordial as though they'd been friends forever. When she didn't speak, he tilted his head to the side. "Something wrong?"

Elle's eyes hardened at the question. She ignored it.

"Just give me my assignment and let me go."

"And what if I don't?" he mused, stepping, if possible, even closer. Elle's eyes were cold with hatred as he ran a hand down her arm, looking almost perverse as he did so.

As soon as his hand was close enough to hers, she sent a small jolt through him to remind him that she wasn't powerless. He grunted lightly and took a step backward, but was chuckling almost immediately. He gave her a once over, then ended today's game. He reached in his jacket and handed her a typed sheet of paper. She unfolded it and skimmed the contents.

"I don't understand. If you already have all these names then what do you need me for?"

"I need their locations, Elle, and you're going to give them to me."

She looked up at him, horrified.

"That's like signing a death sentence for each one of them."

"That's true. But if you _don't _do it, that's like signing your own death sentence, not to mention your father's. And anyone else you love."

She tried to hold back the tears in her eyes, but she couldn't, so she looked at the list again. So many names… 15, at least…

"You have a week."

She looked up, but he was gone.


	3. Busted

Mohinder Suresh arrived at his makeshift laboratory at 9:15 in the morning, a little later than usual; Molly had started having dreams about Sylar again, and they'd been keeping the whole… "family," for lack of a better word… awake. He was so hurried that he almost didn't notice Elle Bishop sitting cross-legged on the floor, a piece of paper clutched in her left hand, staring at the painting underneath her forlornly. Mohinder approached her cautiously.

"Elle?"

She didn't acknowledge him, but she reached out with her right hand and started to trace the lines of the mushroom cloud. He tried again.

"Elle, is everything alright?"

She smiled a little…

_Sylar took his third bite of ice cream and leaned easily against the brick wall, smiling as he found the situation somehow familiar. His sensitive hearing was intently focused on the converted studio three blocks away. He'd wanted to stay closer to keep an eye on Elle, but the security around the lab had been upgraded since his little… visit. He didn't need "Primatech" knowing he was still in the city._

_He was scooping up bite number four when he heard the door of the lab open. Sylar glanced at his impeccably repaired watch; Elle had been in there so long, he'd almost forgotten that Suresh was going to show up. Spoon frozen in midair, he strained to hear the proceedings._

_"Elle? Elle, is everything alright?"_

_Sylar would have killed for the ability to see what was happening. (Then again, he would kill for a lot less than that.) Elle was supposed to be looking through Suresh's files, and her facial expressions trying to explain herself had to be absolutely delicious._

_"I think I'm in trouble, Mohinder."_

_Sylar had pushed himself off of the wall before her sentence was finished. He dropped his unfinished ice cream in a nearby trash can and headed in the direction of the loft. Abruptly, an evil smile spread across his face. He'd almost hoped it would turn out this way._

Mohinder's eyes raked over the list, wide as dinner plates.

"Dear God, he remembered all of these names?"

"Instant retention, remember?"

Mohinder said nothing. He couldn't take his eyes off of the list, and Elle's girlish handwriting spelling out the locations of all the people there.

"If you'd have given this to him…"

"I couldn't do it. I mean, Peter's name is on there… Molly's…" she trailed off in horror of what she almost did. "There has to be some other way."

"I'm going to call Peter, he'll take you somewhere safe while we figure this out." He felt in his pocket for his phone, but it wasn't there. "Oh, damn it. I left my phone at the apartment. Stay here, I'll be back in ten minutes."

Elle stood to protest as Mohinder opened the door, but didn't have a chance to speak before an unseen force threw him sideways against the far left wall of the loft. Her blood turned to ice in her veins as Sylar caught the door before it closed and stepped inside. He was smiling in a way that almost guaranteed pain would be involved.

"You're in trouble now," he said, the terrifying distortion in his voice present. Elle couldn't move as he started forward, but a gunshot suddenly rang out and Sylar crumpled to the floor. She looked around to see Mohinder, still on the ground, but holding a smoking gun that he must have been carrying on his person. She started to run towards him, but Sylar was on his feet again, clutching his left arm, glaring lividly at Mohinder. He nodded infinitesimally at a rack of test tubes, which immediately flew and cracked over Mohinder's head, knocking him unconscious.

"NO!" screamed Elle, staring desperately at her fallen champion, but she couldn't react anymore than that before something solid collided with the side of her head and everything went black.


	4. Wounded

Elle had no idea how long she was out, but when she woke up, a dull throb of pain lingered in her head. She felt like her eyes were glued shut, and besides that, she didn't want to be conscious; she had a feeling the waking world wasn't going to be a pleasant place.

Sure enough, she tried to move her arms and realized they were restrained behind her back. What was more, she was definitely attached to a chair. She decided it would be best to open her eyes.

She expected a light, but it was fairly dark where she was being held. She let her eyes focus and looked around; there weren't any windows, and the walls were cement. She looked down; she was ankle deep in a bucket of water.

_There goes plan A, _she thought. She felt around a little bit, looking for weak points in her restraints, but her wrists were held by handcuffs, and they chair was solid metal.

Just as she started to pull at her cuffs, she heard a very creaky door open behind her and a set of slow footsteps approaching. She stopped moving, almost stopped breathing.

"You're awake," an all-too-familiar voice said. "Good." Sylar's darkened figure moved out in front of her, looming taller than ever. He snapped his fingers and a single light bulb flickered on, temporarily blinding Elle. She winced away from the change, squinting her eyes shut. She took a few seconds to adjust, then got up the courage to look at her captor, but she was surprised by his appearance. He hadn't changed his clothes, and he looked paler than usual. His right hand held a gun, which wasn't surprising, but it looked like he had a fistful of gauze in the other. He looked at her with a hard, resentful expression.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he said, "I'm gonna undo your handcuffs, and I'm gonna keep this gun pointed at you, you're gonna fix my arm."

"But I don't--"

"Don't. Lie to me," he threatened. "You know how to bandage a wound, you had to tend to all those lab rats at that company. So we're gonna do this my way, then you're gonna go back in your chair, then we're gonna discuss that list you handed over to Suresh," anger creeping into his last few words.

Elle was glaring now. Her eyes were mutinous, but she nodded ever so slightly.

Sylar took his jacket off with some difficulty, wincing slightly in pain. As soon as he was done he knelt behind Elle to undo her restraints, keeping the gun pointed at the back of her head. She stood slowly when the cuffs were off, not wanting to give him further incentive to shoot her. As soon as she turned to face him, he gestured toward a table along the back wall of the room. He let the gun down, but kept it pointed at her as she moved to his left arm to examine the wound.

"Did you take the bullet out?"

"No, that's part of your job."

"I don't have the equipment," she explained, eyes still on his arm. "If you have a pair of pliers or something--"

"Oh, FINE," he roared, ripping his arm out of her grasp. She watched in amazement as he stared at the wound, eyebrows pulled together in pain and concentration. After a few second the tiny chunk of metal fell out of the whole in his arm, and he collapsed against the wall again, breathing heavily. Elle looked horrified, almost concerened.

"Bandage," he managed to exhale. "NOW!"

She jumped a little, then started to work. There was a lot of blood, both dried and fresh. It stained the sleeve and the side of his white t-shirt, which, she couldn't help but notice, clung ever so slightly to his well-muscled chest. She repressed a small smile, then mentally scolded herself.

_This bastard is NOT going to Stockholm Syndrome me, _she thought.

As if to test this theory, Sylar turned to check her progress, and suddenly their faces were very close. Elle's breath caught for a second. Sylar didn't look at her, but heard the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat and had to repress a smile of his own. She **was **naïve.

She quickly tied off the bandage and speed-walked back to her chair, not waiting for his instruction. He watched her go back and let the smile happen this time.

_This is going to be much too easy…_


	5. Pain

As the second and third blows of the day landed across Elle's face, she tried to control herself, but to no avail. Blue volts crept across her body, scarring as the went, setting her every nerve ending on fire. After the first "session" yesterday, she'd come to a very important conclusion: She didn't like pain.

Sylar watched her head fall to the side with obvious pleasure. He hadn't even bothered with the pretense of wanting information from her. He could still get what he needed, and it would be that much easier when his plans for Elle were complete. He closed his eyes and reveled in the whimper she let out, then snapped them open again, bracing himself on the chair with his good arm and grabbing her roughly by the chin. She tried to jerk away from his touch, but he forced her to face him.

"You're fighting with the wrong side," he said, sadistic smile dancing across his lips. He released her face and started to pace around her. "What good do you think that company is doing for the world? They're all misguided idealists, and anyone with vision is branded insane and locked away. What I'm doing is real."

"You're a murderer," Elle said venomously, a tremble creeping into her voice. Sylar laughed.

"You forget, I've read through your file. Quite the body count you have."

"That was different, I—" she fell short as she suddenly felt his breath against her neck.

"It's no different, Elle. You and I are special."

"I--"

"Shhh… it's a gift. These people don't deserve the life they're given. They don't appreciate it." His voice went to a whisper as he trailed his hand ever so lightly across her neck. "They don't want it, why shouldn't we take it?" he wondered as her breathing became increasingly shallower. He smirked and straightened, stepping out in front of her. As her heart rate returned to normal, she glared at him.

"My father is coming for me."

"Your father?" he laughed. "You're a lab rat to him. On a good day, you're little more than one of his foot soldiers. He doesn't care about you." He smiled as she recoiled from the truth of his words. "I'd be doing you a favor by killing him."

He couldn't have possibly anticipated what happened next.

A sob tore itself from Elle's throat, raw, visceral, gut-wrenching; not the cries of pain Sylar was used to. Instead of the usual sick enjoyment, regret cut through him, washing cold and unpleasant over him, unfamiliar and unwanted. He'd heard her rage, heard her pain, but this… this was new.

She choked back the emotion almost instantly; clearly she'd had practice. Sylar wasn't so quick. He fixed her with a hard, questioning stare, but she refused to meet his gaze, choosing to glare resentfully at his shoes instead. She knew what a weakness she had when it came to her father; Adam used to taunt her about it daily, and Bennett had even known and used it against her. She didn't know what her father had done to her, and she didn't want to know.

But she'd be damned if she was going to give Sylar another weapon. Even as his eyes bored holes into her, she refused to acknowledge him, willing him to forget what had just happened.

A full minute must have passed, neither speaking nor moving. The intensity of her pain still coursed through Sylar's blood, moving against everything he knew, begging to be released.

"I'm sorry."

Elle's eyes snapped up to his at last, and she was surprised to see that they were almost as confused as she felt. But as their gazes locked, an electricity unlike any she could generate began to fill the room, moving in between them, expanding to the corners of the tiny room.

But Sylar's confusion quickly turned to rage, and the spell was broken as he stormed out, leaving Elle to catch her breath from the encounter.

He slammed the door behind him, then collapsed against it, sinking down to the floor and gripping his hair in his fists.

He hadn't planned on this.


End file.
